


Happy Housewarming (Work in Progress)

by EdwardHyde10



Category: Sidneyverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardHyde10/pseuds/EdwardHyde10
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	Happy Housewarming (Work in Progress)

Happy Housewarming  
by  
Edward Hyde

“There we go!” Claire patted the stuffed and buttered belly of what had, until about an hour ago, been their neighbour’s daughter Jaimie. “All ready for the oven!” The very excited little chicken had been dropped off earlier that morning, having been introduced to the family who would be cooking and serving her the morning after the block party where Claire and Alan’s youngest daughter Amy had become an integral ingredient of a delicious pork and tomato stew! 

On that first visit, cute little four year old had been a little shy – perfectly happy to take her clothes off and let her meat be inspected but turning bashful when any of the strangers tried to talk to her. This morning, however, had been a different story with her strutting confidently around the kitchen, flapping her folding arms and communicating only with clucking sounds, using tone and cadence to communicate meaning, until it was time for her slaughter. 

Although she was more than happy to prepare and cook the little girl, who was obviously very enthusiastic about her destiny herself, Claire felt a little squeamish about the process of slaughtering and gutting a little girl, especially one so you, so Alan had agreed to take on that task. In preparation the night before he had watched as many tutorial videos as he could find and had worked out the best way for such a small girl as Jaimie.

In the bathroom he laid out a selection of very sharp knives, a saw designed for pruning trees, a piece of plastic sheeting and a large plastic tub as well as an over-the taps shower attachment with the head cut off, making a short hose that water from the bath taps could be forced down at high pressure. Once everything was ready, he went downstairs to fetch the rather hyperactive little chicken who clucked at him excitedly and launched her naked, soft, chubby little body into his arms.

In the bathroom he set the little chicken down into the tub where she clucked happily and flapped her “wings” for a few moments before he managed to settle her down and instructed her to get onto her hands and knees. To try to minimise the mess he would have to clean up after, he set the taps running so she knelt in shallow, constantly swirling luke-warm water.

Holding the largest knife in one hand, he took hold of her golden ponytail with the other and pulled her head backwards, exposing her vulnerable throat. He cut deeply, drawing the blade across her neck then, as the videos had instructed, continued to hold her head back to keep the wound open and allow as much blood as possible to come out. As he had hoped, the majority of the hot red liquid mixed with the running water and disappeared down the sink. Despite her willingness, Jaimie thrashed about involuntarily as her body responded to the fatal attack. Alan, however, was prepared for this and held her in place with his other hand. 

It was a mercifully short time before the small girl stopped moving. If she was not already dead then she was at least unconscious. A few moments more and there could be no doubt. Remembering the instructions, Alan used a smaller knife to cut the flesh of her neck, all the way around until her spine was the only thing connecting her cute little head to her delicious young body. Taking a firm grip on her head with both hands, he gave a firm twist. There was a satisfying snap followed by a wet, sucking noise as her spine broke and her head came away in his hands. Carefully, he set it down on the plastic sheeting to be refrigerated and returned to her parents for mounting as agreed.

Next, Alan took the saw and removed Jaimie’s chubby little hands and feet. These would be boiled for soup later on along with any of her edible organs he was able to salvage but for now they went onto the plastic sheeting along side her head. Looking at the bloody carcass in the bath, Alan was struck by how much already it looked like a slaughtered chicken or pig rather than the little girl it had been mere minutes before.

The bleeding had almost stopped now so he took the shower down from its hook and rinsed off rapidly-congealing blood, rinsing it down the sink and leaving the carcass fresh and pink apart from the stumps where the hands, feet and head had been, which still continued to ooze a little. 

Now was the trickier and messier part but the process had gone so well up to that point that Alan was confident and he used one hand to spread Jamie’s buttocks and a small knife in the other to cut around her little puckered anus, cutting a circle a little over two centimetres in diameter. Using the blade as a lever now, he carefully worked this small circle of flesh loose and began to pull. As promised in the videos, he found himself hauling out intestines as if they were rope. Feeling a little resistance, he used the knife to cut a little both upwards and downwards, allowing the hole to open wide enough to pull all Jaimie’s digestive organs out. Severing her head had loosened the top and eventually the final piece came free, flipping back like an angry snake as he pulled it from the rather messy hole. 

It felt warm and clamming inside but Alan was impressed to find that his arm went in with no trouble, all the way up to the elbow, as he took hold of Jaimie’s heart and lungs and pulled them out. Once he was satisfied that all the viscera was removed, he fitted the headless shower adapter to the bath taps and fed the end into the little chicken’s neck. As he turned on the water, it passed through her emptied body cavity and out the other end, red at first then turning to pink and finally running clear. Another pass over the outside with the real shower and the chicken was ready for the kitchen. 

Having laid the carcass on the floor next to the plastic sheeting, Alan carefully sorted the edible organs from the waste, putting the edible ones on the plastic and the others in the tub. Once the fire was lit for the spit-roast, he would dump them on and burn them that way. Feeling proud of a job well done, he had tossed the cleaned carcass over his shoulder and carried it down to the kitchen before returning for the other parts and to clean up which his wife took over the preparation.

Down in the kitchen, Claire was impressed with what a good, professional job her husband seemed to have down. After washing her hand, she began to stuff the chicken, pushing the pre-prepared stuffing in through the opened up hold a handful at a time until she was satisfied that Jaimie was as full as she could be. She then plugged the hole with a whole onion before flipping the carcass onto its back and sliding a peeled carrot between the lips of Jaimie’s meaty four year old vulva. Now she rubbed the skin all over with soft butter before lifting the former little girl, now chicken, into the roasting pan, bending her knees and tying her arms in a folded position to resemble wings. Jaimie the excitable little girl was now well and truly no more – she was a chicken ready for the oven!

Of course Jaimie the roast chicken was only to be the starter for that evening’s party. The main course would be their eleven year old daughter Emily roasted alive on a borrowed spit. She was in the shower now, preparing herself and using the hair-removal cream to make sure that nobody got any unwelcome surprises with their dinner. 

For a girl who was normally so shy and modest, Emily was surprised to find out just how much she was looking forward to greeting all their new neighbours in the nude, her barely-pubescent body on full display to anyone who cared to look or even have a feel – she was food after all and the guests were entitled to check the quality of her meat! 

She looked down at the small buds on her chest, crowned with perky pink nipples. She wondered how many people would want to feel them before she was put on to cook and how they would taste when roasted. Personally, she imagined the best meat would be in her shapely rump and thick thighs. They looked so delicious and juicy when she admired her naked form in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. She was sure their guests that night were in for a treat!

When he had brought the spit round and dropped off his daughter for her final play-date, their neighbour Sam had also brought around the ballot box and numbered cards that were used at most neighbourhood gatherings to pick which volunteer would be cooked for “seconds”, once the host’s daughter had been consumed. Emily had participated herself last time but it had been her little sister who had ended up picked, along with another girl a couple of years older than Emily. As she stepped out of the shower and towelled off, Emily wondered who might end up riding the spit after her. Her parents were likely to re-use the same method as she was pretty sure they had no other way of cooking a girl, unless Frank and his wife were bringing their stew-pot of course! Not that it mattered either way to Emily – she would be long gone by then!

As she hung up her towel, Emily realised how strange it felt firstly to not be getting dressed after a shower in the morning and secondly to realise that she would never, ever get dressed again! She had come into the world naked and, in a few hours she would be leaving it the same way! Out the bathroom window she could see her dad setting up the spit and filling the tough with coals that would be lit once the guests started to arrive. 

Feeling that she might as well spend her last hour or so being useful, Emily made her way, naked as the day she was born and feeling fresh, smooth and tingly from the hair-removal cream, down to the kitchen to see if her mum needed any help getting things ready for the party. 

***

In the kitchen, Emily found her mum chopping lettuce for the big bowl of salad.

“Hi mum.” the preteen smiled, “Need a hand?” 

“Sure!” Claire replied, looking her daughter’s naked and freshly-scrubbed body up and down. “You can chop the tomatoes if you like.” Standing next to her mum, knife in hand, Emily reflected how normal everything felt – just like any other party. Yet the salad she was helping to prepare was to be served with her very own meat! 

“Are you doing your famous potato wedges too?” she asked with a grin, knowing how popular they had always been at any party in their old neighbourhood and how well they would go both with spit-roasted pig and oven-roasted chicken! 

“Oh yes!” Claire grinned. “But they don’t take too long so I’ll put them in the oil just as everyone’s arriving. You know,” she smiled at her eleven year old daughter, “you really do look lovely! Good enough to eat!” 

“That’s handy then!” Emily laughed, picking up the chopping board and scraping the tomato pieces into the bowl with the edge of the knife. “The chicken’s starting to smell really good!” she observed, setting down the knife and walking over to the oven where she crouched down to peep through the glass door. Jaimie’s carcass was starting to brown nicely, looking far more like a roast chicken than a little girl. It was rather bizarre seeing a cute little head in the fridge when she opened it to take out the cucumber and bell peppers for the salad but it did not disturb her. 

Once the salad was finished, Emily and Claire went outside to make sure everything was ready. It seemed strange not having Amy bouncing around wanting to get involved but neither felt sad about this – she had got her wish and died very happy, making lots of their neighbours happy shortly afterwards in the same way that Emily would this afternoon. 

The trestle table was set with paper plates, plastic cutlery, bread rolls and salad covered with cling-film for the time being. A rustic tin bath Frank had bought at a flea market for just this purpose five or so years earlier was filled with ice cubes from which protruded bottles of beer, wine and soda like strange metal-topped glass weeds! There were various sauce bottles on the table and space for a large platter with the roast chicken starter. Emily’s meat would be served from a mount for the spit just behind the table. 

Fortunately, the spit-roasting setup they had borrowed from Sam included two spit poles so whichever volunteer got voted for to provide the extra meat could be prepped, spitted and put on to cook while Emily’s cooked body sat, ready for carving. Then people would be able to enjoy the sure to be delicious Emily-meat while they watched her replacement cook. 

***

“Hey piggy! Looking tasty!” Emily looked up and saw Sam, his wife and daughter Sal who would be cooking for his birthday before too long. 

“Hi!” the naked eleven year old looked up and waved happily at the family who had loaned the spit on which she would very soon be cooked. “That little chicken you gave us sure is roasting up nicely!” 

“Oh great!” the family pushed the garden gate open and walked in. “She was excited enough about it. If it’s possible to choose how your meat tastes I’m sure she’ll be amazing!”

“Hope I’m good too!” Emily grinned a little sheepishly. 

“Oh for sure!” Sam took her small, pointy little breast in his hands and fondled them a little. “These are sure to be amazing!”

“Thank you.” Emily could not help blushing a little. Next to arrive only few minutes later were Mandy and her family, all of whom greeted the excited meat-girl with great enthusiasm. Within half an hour, all the guests had arrived. There was everyone who had been at the block party where Amy had been consumed, as well as lots of friends and family from their old area and some new friends that Emily had made at school and had invited to partake of her meat.

With so many visitors, it was obvious that the two girls already on the menu were not going to provide enough food for everyone to eat their fill. Fortunately, local tradition meant that if a third or even fourth girl were to be needed, they would be readily available. From the way lots of of the teen and preteen girls seemed to be looking longingly at the spit, there would be no shortage of volunteers when the time came!

As she watched her daughter happily mingling with and chatting to the guests, letting any who wanted to feel different parts of her developing young body, Claire reflected as she had often done in the past how good for a girl’s self-esteem becoming food was. All the features that she knew Emily was a little self-conscious about – her thick thighs, her slightly podgy belly, all contributed towards making her a better meat girl and she knew it. It was a real joy to see the way the normally shy and modest adolescent show off her naked form. 

An alarm on her phone alerted Claire to the fact that the chicken would be ready and it was time for the first course of the meal to be served. While Emily stood with her chest thrust forward, allowing an older lady to assess her breast meat, such as it was, Claire signalled to Frank and her followed her inside to the kitchen. 

The smell when the oven door was opened was amazing – it made Claire think of Christmases at her Grandmas where, if there was no young cousin to be eaten that year, a lovely, home-raised girl would be bought from the local market and roasted. Carefully, the couple lifted the roasting pan out of the oven and onto the table. From there, careful not to let the roasted carcass break apart as they lifted, they transferred Jaimie out of the roasting pan and onto a large serving platter which was already atop a trolley so it could be easily taken out into the garden. 

The guests all applauded and made other suitable appreciative sounds as the trolley was wheeled out and they got their first look at the chicken which had been little Jaimie, roasted a delicious golden brown, her skin crispy and the meat beneath cooked to perfection. Her parents, of course, were at the front of the line and given first choice of which part of their youngest daughter’s body they wanted their slices cut from. Rather unsurprisingly, Sam opted for her chubby vulva while his wife requested a slice or two of rump. Close behind them, big sister Sal asked for some meat from the thigh which was thick and juicy. It did not take long, once everyone lined up for their share, for Jaimie to be reduced to little more than bones but she was, of course, only the starter. The main course was to come. 

Seeing her mum carving the roast chicken and serving out the meat, Emily realised that it was her time and looked around for her dad. She found him over by the portable spitting apparatus, poking the coals to check that they were ready to cook over. 

“One piggy reporting for roasting duty!” she grinned, standing to attention and offering a mock-formal salute. 

“Splendid!” Frank grinned. “Let’s get you oiled up, shall we?” 

It did not take long for word to get around that the show was starting and people began to gather around, many with buns filled with roast Jaimie in their hands, to watch as Frank began to coat his elder daughter’s body in oil ready for the spit. Unlike some of her friends, Emily had never shared such physical intimacy with her dad, not since the days when he used to change her diapers at least, but the feeling of his big, firm, manly hands on her young body was not at all unpleasant. She could not help moaning softly as he rubbed the oil into her small, pointy little titties topped with pink nipples which threatened to have his eye out if he was not careful. 

When the excited young meat-girl was oiled all over, she mounted the frame which had come with the spit. It was not as big as those used in restaurants or by proper catering companies – more of a small piece of scaffolding around the size and shape of a coffee table, but it served the purpose. As her wrists and ankles were locked into place, Emily suddenly felt very exposed but was a little surprised to find that she did not mind at all! Her bent-over position, facing away from the majority of the guests meant that there was no mistaking how excited she was to receive her first and only penetration!

With some assistance from Sam who was more experienced, Frank positioned the tip of the spit at the opening of Emily’s eager young pussy. He did not even think to ask if she was sure – his garden was filled with family and friends waiting for a taste of roast Emily and roast Emily was what they were going to get! The restrained girl gave a little gasp as the cold metal entered her, sliding thought her well-lubricated vagina until the sharp tip touched her cervix. Gritting her teeth and determined not to cry out, she could not suppress a little whimper of pain as the cruel spike tore into her, ripping her insides open to create a path for itself as it travelled deeper and deeper into her luscious young body.

As the spit erupted from Emily’s mouth, the guests applauded as they had when the now-stripped chicken had been brought out. Having studied the spit in detail the night before and knowing what came next, Emily braced herself. 

Along the length of the pole were holes, about 10cm apart and each 1cm wide. Through two of these holes in front of her, she watched her dad slide very sharp, double-ended skewers, then twist them so they locked into place. Having un-cuffed her wrists, he took first her right arm and pressed the meat of her bicep until it protruded the other side. This hurt almost as much as the spitting but, despite the tears in her eyes, she did not cry out. The second skewer was pushed through her wrist, pinning her arm securely to the pole in front of her. Once satisfied, Frank repeated the process with her left arm before stepping around behind his daughter and uncuffing her wrists. Although she could not see this time, Emily felt longer skewers pierce her thighs, calves and ankles before her dad used some metal wire to tie her wrists and ankles together. 

The wounds were clean and plugged by the skewers that had inflicted them but still a little blood oozed out and mingled with the oil as Emily’s dad used a battery-powered razor to shave her head. The little stubble that was left would, he was assured, burn off as she cooked. Truly, Emily did not feel like a girl any more. She felt as she looked – a stuck pig ready for roasting. 

The pain of the spitting and the multiple smaller wounds had a numbing effect, almost cancelling themselves out, but there was no mistaking the sharp, burning pain in her belly as her dad sliced her open, cutting through the skin, fat and muscle to remove her viscera. She knew that he would sort the edible from the inedible and that no part of her would be wasted but right now she just wanted to be over the coals and begin the process of cooking. 

She did not have to wait long as, having removed most of her innards and washed out her now-empty body cavity with the garden hose, resulting in a sensation no intact girl can feel of cold water being squirted onto the inside of her abdomen, Frank and Sam lifted the spit and hoisted it onto the rack above the hot coals, locking the ends into place. There was yet more applause as Frank hit the button to start the motor, causing the spit to turn and Emily to begin the long process of cooking. 

“Great!” Frank clapped his hands together, addressing his guests. “While we wait for our special piggy to cook, how about we sort out Seconds?” 

To be Continued...


End file.
